Juxtaposition
by Inspiration-Is-Hard-To-Come-By
Summary: David had to make some quick decisions. He knew from one look that this guy wasn't just stealing for the thrill. The stranger's cheeks were hollow, his eyes were sunken in. His hair was tangled, he wore tattered clothes and even from a few yards away, smelled of sweat and the damp, dirty streets.


David glanced behind him at the clock, his long day in the tiny store in the alley was almost over, and while minutes ago, the tiny space had been packed, it was now clearing out, only a couple of people remaining. He turned back to face the floor and that was when he saw it. A boy, maybe a little older than himself, with two apples in his hands, sneaking back toward the door. The guy froze in his tracks, knowing he'd been caught. For a moment, they just stared at each other. The thief's eyes were full of terror as Davey looked into them. They both knew that one shout would draw the attention of the store owner, get the boy thrown out or maybe arrested, but the air was thick with tension and doubt.

David had to make some quick decisions. He knew from one look that this guy wasn't just stealing for the thrill. The stranger's cheeks were hollow, his eyes were sunken in. His hair was tangled, he wore tattered clothes and even from a few yards away, smelled of sweat and the damp, dirty streets. And while David couldn't condone stealing, he had to admire the courage he saw. There was no reason for the guy not to have already taken off running. Not knowing what to do, David made a choice he was sure he'd regret. He mouthed one word, "Go." The kid didn't need to be told twice. His face expressed an ocean of gratitude before he turned and bolted for the door, his dirty hands gripping the apples like a lifeline.

An hour later, David's shift finally ended. It was dark outside as he walked home, exhausted after about twelve hours on his feet. As he moved through the windy, quiet streets, he tried to rationalize his actions. He knew that the store couldn't afford to lose much right now, but he also knew that the owner, Mr. Meyer, had never starved a day in his life. If anyone found out, David would lose his job, but Mr. Meyer didn't want to employ anyone over thirteen, and Davey was coming up on his fourteenth birthday. He told himself he hadn't really done anything wrong. After all, if he'd been out back when that kid came in, no one would've ever been the wiser.

That night, lying in bed, he had another thought. Maybe he hadn't done enough. The walls around David creaked in the wind. It was a particularly punishing February in New York, and anyone who knew anything was aware of the cruel, biting cold. He wondered where that kid was sleeping. If he was warm. If he shared those apples with anyone.

...

Weeks went by, and over time, Davey was able to put the thief out of his mind. Mr. Meyer hadn't paid any mind to the tiny shortage of inventory- usually, there was some discrepancy anyway because food could become spoiled or bruised or otherwise unsellable. This meant that when David noticed a familiar, dirty face by the door almost a month later, he felt a little more confident. Mr. Meyer was out, wouldn't be back for a few hours, and the store was empty but for the two boys.

Again, they both seemed to freeze. David finally spoke, "You here for two more apples?"

The guy never broke eye contact, "I was hopin' you wouldn't be here this time."

_Okay, ouch. _David wavered, but only for a second, "Why?"

"'Cause you seem nice, I ain't tryin' to take advantage." The stranger's voice was casual, feigning nonchalance, but he sounded hoarse and a little nervous.

"How is stealing any better than taking advantage of someone?"

"It's better 'cause if you're smart about it nobody has to get hurt. I'm sure you ain't lookin' to get thrown outta this cushy indoor job anytime soon. You steal when nobody's lookin' so nobody gets blamed. It's not your fault I ain't makin' enough."

David chewed on his lip before responding, "If you know so much about stealing how come you look hungrier than when I last saw you?" This time, there was no cool response. His heart pounding in his ears, David crossed the room and handed the stranger three apples and a loaf of bread, wrapped neatly in his own handkerchief. Again met with silence he said, "You're feeding somebody else, right? I've been there… And look, I probably won't be here the next time you come back, so be careful."

The other boy seemed to be shocked speechless. He stared at David for a moment, absolutely dumbfounded, before slowly, almost gently taking the food from him. Finally, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. Then, with great hesitation, he turned and left David alone, presumably for the last time.

…

Jack and David started strolling back toward the lodging house. They had just pawned off the last paper of the day, and the sun was setting somewhere out on the horizon. David was pretty good with directions, so he noticed when Jack turned to cut down a side street, but he didn't say anything, having grown accustomed to Jack's endless shortcuts. Jack was in the middle of a sentence when out of nowhere he stopped in his tracks, his voice cutting off suddenly. "Holy shit," he breathed.

"Jack? You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I just, this is where I knew you from."

"What do you mean?"

"I totally forgot, but it was right here, wasn't it?" Jack said, sounding, for once, only half-sure. He seemed to be looking for answers in David's eyes.

"What was right here?"

Jack pointed weakly at the old storefront across the street and David followed his gaze. As he finally looked up to see it, a memory came into focus. An old memory of hollow cheeks and wild eyes and filthy brown hair. A memory that had somehow gotten away from him until now. How could he not realize before? Jack paused for a moment, looking distant, then quietly he remarked, "This is where it was, that little store," He seemed to come back into focus, giving David a look into those same wild eyes, "And you worked there. Didn't you?"

David swallowed, "That was you. I never… I never even thought."

"Me neither."

Silence fell between them as they gazed into the past. They didn't notice how the evening grew darker and cooler. Eventually, Jack spoke again, "You saved my life, Davey."

David hadn't been ready for that. He tried to shrug it off, "I didn't do nothin'. You coulda saved your own life with or without me."

Jack nudged the younger boy with his shoulder, in a way that could have passed for common rough-housing. It was different though, somehow. Softer. He lingered for just a moment, daring to show the slightest bit of affection. And right in David's ear, he mumbled, "You're a good person, Davey Jacobs."

David shivered, leaning against Jack, "You're not so bad yourself, cowboy."

As they started to walk again, Jack slung his arm around the back of Davey's neck, and Davey couldn't help but smile. It's funny how the same people can stand in the same street and look at the same storefront without anything, _anything,_ being the same as it was.


End file.
